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‘Tanka: 'Toems in E'xile 





























J 



“Poems in Cxile 




Chicago 
Covici-JMcQee C°> 

1923 




7°59 c ;9o 

.fists 

This firSt edition of /<? Z g 
TANKA : POEMS IN EXILE Co p y £ 
is limited to 

three hundred and sixty-five copies 
of which this is 
Timber 



Copyright 1923 
Covici-McGee Co. 


©C1A7G0S50 (L. 

NOV 12 *33 


x^o 




For permission to reprint certain of these 
poems, I am grateful to the editors of Toetry: 
A JMagazine of Verse, 'The Wave, Caprice, and 
other periodicals. Especially I take this oppor¬ 
tunity to express my long felt gratitude to Miss 
Harriet Monroe, editor of Toetry. 

I also wish to thank Miss Florence Mae Carr 
for her valuable advice and assistance in pre¬ 
paring this volume. J. F. 






‘ 















To 

<JMrs. Sdward H. Taylor 




















Winter 

• 1 












\ 


% 


Under the scowling sky 
The frozen sand plain stretches. 
Curled and crisp, two leaves 
Scud away. 


9 


Falling slowing, whirling swiftly— 
The horizon, lost in the snow. 

On a gaunt skeleton 
A crow with wings drooping 
Peers. 


Among the brittled grasses, 
Frosting in the moon glare, 
Tombstones are 
Whiter tonight. 


The glamourous night is fading 
Over the rolling hills, hoary bare. 
On the paled sky, the moon 
Has forgotten to vanish. 


From the clear depth, inlaid with stars, 

An echo of the glittering snow. 

A fleeting song and bell, over the icy horizon, 
Have left a vibrant void. 


*3 


The death-like expanse of snow, 
The low leaden sky— 

From the drift, now and then, 
Thin fangs dart. 



The rocking horse, 

A half built block house — 
Stillness echoes 
Toft laughter . 
















% 







Milky night; 

Through slender trees in drowse 
A petal— 

Falling. 




*9 


The air is still 
And grasses are wet; 
Thread-like rain 
Screens the dunes. 


2.0 


On the pond rain-drops are bubbling; 
From the hem of heaven 
Dyed in black 
The frog echoes. 


21 


The sloping sand plain 
Fades into pale night air; 
A black tree skeleton 
Casts no shadow. 


Above the settling mist, 

Above the phantom isles upon the settling mist, 
In the opalized moonlight, 

The whinny of a horse careers by. 


2-3 


Down the slope, white with flowers, 
Toward the hills, hazy blue, 

A butterfly 
Floats away. 


2-4 


While you pant deliriously, I awake 
To the bold moon, 

The somber hills, 

And myself. 






* 
































I 












* 


Summer 













Against the gulls that play in the gale 
The black waves dart 
White fangs 
In vain. 


19 


Midnight; 

Over the lifeless sand plain, 
The moon and I 
Are alone. 


3 ° 


The night is bare and pale 
Over the charred down trees. 

Daring the empty space and drifting mist 
A gaunt skeleton stands. 


3 1 


Over the undulating expanse, grey glare, 
A last glint of day is fading; 

On the shore the same tired waves 
Splash. 


3 1 


There is no time here. 

From giant trunks hoary moss 

Hangs through the air of shadowy green. 

And cool dew drips. 


33 

















By the sunflowers 
A cat sniffs the grass— 
Her tail curls in the air. 















c _A Strange muteness — 

The grey door of your boat-house alone 
listens to ripples, 

Tonight. 











t-Autumn 


























The brook has gone. 

Over the leaves that lie so still 
A bird, 

Startled. 


39 


A sudden caw, lost in the air, 

Leaves the hillside to the autumn sun; 
Save a leaf or two curling 
Not a sound is here. 


40 


On a country road 
An old woman walks; 

The autumn sun casts her shadow 
Long and thin. 


4 1 


Against the cold sky 
Where the day fades swiftly 
A scarecrow stands 
With its torn sleeve swaying. 


The November sky without a star 
Droops low over the midnight street 
On the pale pavement, cautiously 
A leaf moves. 


43 


Across the frozen marsh 
The last bird has flown; 
Save a few reeds 
Nothing moves. 


On a pale sand-hill 
A bare tree stands; 

The death-wind has snatched 
The last few leaves. 




Graves are frozen. 
A few leaves 
Stood, whirled, 
And have gone. 


I know it is not she , 
Yet , I listen 
To distant laughter ; 
Fleeting away . 












Others 












Cjypsy Taylor 


“G-y-p, oh, G-y-y-p!” 

In mute blackness where my call vanishes 

Your voiceless laughter 

Flickers. 


5 1 


To Elizabeth 


Against the door dead leaves are falling; 
On your window the cobwebs are black. 
Today, I linger alone. 

The foot-step? 

A passer-by. 


5 1 


JMiriam 



A sigh among the trees; 

A sudden shower of large rain-drops— 
I hear no voice, today. 

On the wet grass 
Paper, crumpled, flaps. 


53 


Ecstasy 


The night is still, 

So, you, 

Panting secretly, relaxed on the grass, 
With languorous eyes half closed. 
You smile 

As the cool breeze flows— 

Flows over your dishevelled hair. 


54 


Summer Moon 


The rain, crazed like horses 
In the flare of lightning, has gone. 

Against the clear washed sky 
Rain-drops on the twigs 
Reflea the moon. 



< l A JMoon 


Why so weird, Moon? 

Grey-haired, wind-combed, 

Hastening through the torn clouds 
With pale stare fixed beyond the horizon, 
What are you searching for? 

Dried and crazed, the sands are rising 
Against a broken face in laughter. 


56 


'Ticture 


The roads are frozen; no moving thing is there. 
Upon the red opening across the black sky 
A headless, giant form, 

Hanging by its arms stretched, 

Glides on. 

Dead and pale, the roads are far. 


N 


57 


''Diminuendo 


Into the evening haze 

Out of giant stacks, the smoke 

Winds and fades. 

Din and whistles have dwindled away 
And stillness chants an empty echo. 


58 


^Michigan 'Boulevard 

A row of black tombs—tall and jagged, 

The buildings stand in the drizzly night. 

With vacant stare the boulevard lamps in rain 
Amuse the green gleams they cast. 

Beyond the lamps, among the tombs, 

Drip, and drip, 

The hollow sound rises. 


59 


Chicago 'River 

Slowly, by the slimy wooden wharves, 

Through the stillness of rain 

The Chicago River glides into night. 

From the silhouette of a black iron bridge, 
The watchman’s light is dripping— 
Dripping like melting tallow. 

Out of darkness 
Comes a woman, 

Hellos to me; her wet face glares; 

Casually she turns and goes 
Into the darkness. 

Through the stillness of rain 
The Chicago River glides on. 


60 


JMy Sister 

Across the meadow 
The breeze is fragrant; 

In a tree a bird 
Disturbs the petals 

Over these tombstones, still and content. 

A melodious afternoon, years ago; 

My sister 

With pig-tail flying 
Chased a dragon-fly 
And laughed over nothing. 

The clear vision stands today— 

When I pledged 
Tidings and gifts 

Her strained lips quivered in vain— 

Before me, the tombstone, still and content. 

The chirp of a bird among the trees— 

It too has died away. 


61 


"Printed by 

WILL RANSOM : MAKER OF BOOKS 
at his private press 
14 WeSt Washington Street 
Chicago, U. S. A. 
in the month of 
September 
1923 










































MOV 23* 








































